


A Cabin Boy's Duties

by BiancaCastafarina



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiancaCastafarina/pseuds/BiancaCastafarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tintin fantasizes about being abused by a bunch of sailors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Some things simply don't work in reality. And although Tintin and Haddock have shared so much as lovers, he has never told the Captain about his favorite fantasy. For the Captain, he's the nice boy next door ( _really?,_ he thinks, _after all what we've done?_ ), he's _always_ been the nice boy next door, and can't think of an excuse to change that.

No, Tintin cannot tell him about _that_ fantasy.

It is one of these lazy Sunday afternoons when the grounds and walls of Marlinspike Hall bask in the glowing light of a fading October day. It shines through the high windows, delicately diffused by the curtains, illuminating Tintin's figure on the bed.

He takes naps – or rather _pretends_ to nap – rarely, only when Haddock is out at the pub, and that's when he imagines what he'd have the Captain, and several other sailors, do to him.

Tintin lies facedown on the wide bed, the silken pillow-sheet soft on his skin, and fantasizes.

.

.

.

He's very lucky to have found this job as a cabin boy. Times are so uncertain nowadays especially for unfavored young men like him who've never had the opportunity to receive higher education.

Now, if perhaps the sailors aboard this ship were not such rude fellows, this job would be perfect. But that's something he can deal with.

The glances, the leers, the casual touches, the gropes, the fondles – it's all part of the game. He's the object of desire of the entire crew, and they make it clear in various not-so-subtle ways.

But he isn't that kind of boy. He rejects their advances with superior ease, evading greedy hands and wriggling out of pretend-chummy embraces.

Fortunately the Captain is a gentleman, unlike these men. Tintin can count on his protection, and the crew knows it too. They will probably not dare going _all_ the way - and Tintin shudders at the thought with both fear and delight – lowering themselves to unspeakable things. Actually, he hasn't told Haddock anything of that yet. The Captain must not think of him as a distraction to his men. Tintin wants to demonstrate that he is perfectly capable of being the best cabin boy the _Karaboudjan_ has ever had.

He has just finished sweeping the kitchen when the sailor Forrest Squintley enters.

„Hey, boy! How's it going?" His tone is cheerful. They always call him „boy", and Tintin begins to resent it. Although he's an adult they apparently don't see him as such.

„Quite well", Tintin replies, glancing at the door to make sure it is still open.

„Listen, boy... I've got an idea." Squintley approaches, a determined speed in his stride. Rarely has Tintin been cornered in a room, and this is one of these moments. Squintley is blocking his way, and Tintin immediately watches for a way out, waits for the right moment to escape.

„You know, the other sailors aren't very nice."

Tintin stays quiet, nods. What is this guy planning?

„I can protect you from them." A lopsided smile distorts his face, and his stare is uncomfortably intense.

„I have no idea what you mean." Tintin pretends cluelessness while anticipating the right moment to push the man aside and flee.

Squintley bends down so his face is on one level with Tintin's, and he takes Tintin's chin in his hand, gentle but possessive. „Don't act like you don't know. You're the prettiest young thing on board. Actually, the most beautiful one we've seen in ages." His thumb brushes over Tintin's lips. „Such smooth skin, such a pretty mouth. You know how depraved my fellow sailors are. It's only a matter of time till they ravish you."

„Leave me alone." Tintin turns his head, backing off from the man's hand.

„ _They_ will leave you alone if I protect you. See, I'm quite strong." It's true – he's towering over Tintin, an intimidating figure. „If you agree to let _me_ have you, and no one else, I'll make sure that no one bothers you."

„No, I'm not doing this. Leave me!"

Tintin tries to jump past Squintley, toward the door, but the sailor catches him in the last second, his arm around Tintin's waist.

„You don't even know what you're missing, lad! I'll treat you well, I'm not like them!"

Tintin's elbow hits Squintley's side full force.

„ _Owww!_ "

The sailor lets go of him, and Tintin runs.

On the deck, he pauses, wiping sweat from his brow. Perhaps he should indeed complain to the Captain, he ponders. But what can Haddock realistically do? Will he even believe Tintin if he hasn't seen this incident – and any of the others – occur? Is it even worth telling? They have not hurt him in any way – not physically.

Not yet.

Only half an hour later another sailor approaches Tintin, telling him that Captain Haddock wants to talk to can this possibly be about?

The moment he enters the Captain's cabin he knows.

There Forrest Squintley is, and the Captain is standing next to him, and they look at him with a stern, accusing expression on their faces.

Tintin breathes in deeply, assuming the worst. What on earth has this creep told Haddock about him?

The door falls shut, and Tintin waits.

„All right, lad", the Captain says, inhaling tobacco from his pipe. „This man says you've refused to service him."

„There's a misunderstanding", Tintin says. „He... he made an inappropiate advance toward me."

Haddock tilts his head, cocking an eyebrow. „And you refused?"

„Why, yes, of course!"

There is a short pause. Squintley looks at Haddock as if to say, _see? See?_

Haddock sighs. „Come here", he orders, waving Tintin closer. For a second Tintin doesn't even think of questioning the order – it's the way Haddock gives it, commanding as if he's done it all his life, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and like everyone else Tintin unconsciously picks up on this and obeys without thinking.

He stands before Haddock, so close that their feet almost touch.

„It looks like you haven't yet grasped the full scope of your responsibilities, boy."

Tintin stares at him. These words are the last he has expected. „Excuse me?"

Haddock steps forward, pushing one thigh between Tintin's legs with controlled force, and the only thing that prevents Tintin from stumbling backward are Haddock's hands squeezing his bottom, rough hands almost big enough to enclose each of his buttocks, and he gasps.

„C-Captain-!"

.

.

.

„Captain", Tintin murmurs, pushing his lower body against the mattress. „Ohh." The pressure is delicious, and he fights hard to resist the urge to rub his pelvis forth and back.

Not yet. He has to wait it out, wait till the scenario is fully on.

His fingers grasp the sheet, and he sighs, his hot breath moistening the linen.

.

.

.

Immediately his instincts drive Tintin to fight, but Haddock grasps his ginger hair, jerking Tintin's head back.

Tintin looks at Haddock incredulously. His heart is pounding hard in his chest and his legs tremble.

„You're supposed to do as you're told. Open your mouth."

„Captain" Tintin protests, „I- I'm not that kind of boy! I can't-!"

His words are swiftly cut off by the sudden vigor of Haddock's mouth on his lips, and the Captain invades him with a rough wet tongue, tasting of whisky and tobacco.

Tintin whimpers, unable to back off – Haddock's hand is holding the back of his head, forcing this kiss upon him and pillaging his virgin mouth.

But his bristly beard feels softer than it looks. Tintin's rigid body gradually relaxes and he thinks, this doesn't feel too bad, maybe the Captain will do just this and won't go further-

-but then Haddock's mouth wanders down to Tintin's neck, tickling the sensitive skin between the lad's neck and shoulder, and then bites him.

„Ah", Tintin cries out, and immediately covers his mouth. Now he's breathing hard and shallow, feels Haddock's calloused hands slide up his shirt, and then the Captain whispers, „You _are_ that kind of boy, and I will show you."

Tintin realizes how wrong he was. Nothing is sacred any more. The insight makes him want to surrender and turn his head away, eyes and mouth tightly closed as these scoundrels have their way with him, but he's always been a fighter.

„No", he shouts, starting to struggle once more. He pushes against the other man's chest. „No, don't!"

Haddock's response is to grab him, one muscular arm around Tintin's waist, and he covers Tintin's mouth with his other hand. „Shut up", he growls, and lifts him up, hoisting him toward his bed.

For a second or two the room spins, then Tintin lands facedown on the mattress with a thump. He looks up to see the Captain standing in front of the bed, ordering the other man to hold Tintin's arms while he removes Tintin's pants. They slide down, exposing his smooth thighs, and cool air brushes over his naked bottom.

The lad's squirms and kicks are answered with a hard smack on his backside. „Stay still", Haddock orders. „It's going to happen either way, you might as well cooperate."

Right. Tintin is breathing shallowly, his face feels damp with fear. „Captain", he pleads, „be gentle, please."

In this fantasy he's never done it before, and Haddock is going to forcefully break him in.

_Oh God, this is going to hurt._

„If you're good, lad." Haddock's hands roam over Tintin's chest under the shirt, and caress his thighs, then he orders Forrest to let go of Tintin's wrists, and fetch the other men so they can watch and see.

 _What?!_ Tintin is shocked. Are they _all_ going to see...?

But he has no time to ponder the frightening possibilities, for Haddock kneels on the bed in front of Tintin's face, unzipping his jeans. They're already bulging with the hard and ready erection contained within, and when he reveals it Tintin stares. It protrudes forth and points at him, deep red and demanding.

Tintin is speechless.

Haddock latches onto his massive girth with a strong hand as if handling a precious treasure, stroking and polishing it. „Suck it, boy. Come on. I've got to unload."

Dutifully Tintin kneels on all fours in front of him but sets on to speak, „But- I've never-"

Haddock responds by grabbing his quiff and directing his cock at Tintin's mouth, forcing it inside, and choking Tintin's surprised whimper.

Tears fill Tintin's eyes, and at the same time, a slight delectable tremor runs down his spine. He's on his knees and hands, his bottom exposed, and tries to keep his mouth wide open as Haddock slowly starts to move.

It is no use resisting the peculiar sensation – he is getting aroused himself. Warmth radiates from his groin and he knows if Haddock notices he'll punish him for being a slut. The thought makes him anxious, and he knows it's just a matter of time until the Captain, or another man, will see how Tintin's entrance is ready and wanting, how hard his erection is, how is body is betraying him by demanding such depraved things against his will.

_Why does it feel so good? I thought I didn't want this!_

He manages to take in more than half of Haddock's length, feeling it swell and pulse on his tongue. It's hot and oozing pre-cum, making it easier to move his mouth along it forth and back.

Haddock caresses Tintin's hair. „Ah, this is good. Keep going, lad."

Soon he decides it's enough, and orders Tintin to turn around. „Keep your ass up in the air." Tintin obeys, not daring to look at the Captain for fear that his shameful desire is written all over his face.

Rough hands pat and squeeze his buttocks. Haddock reaches one hand around, pushing two digits between Tintin's lips, ordering him to get those fingers wet. Tintin works up more saliva, getting them thoroughly moist, because he has a suspicion where these fingers will end up.

Indeed, Haddock removes them only to re-enter a digit from behind.

„Ah!"

Tintin gasps, and his body tenses. He can't suppress a whimper; never before has anything been inserted in his rear. It feels as if he has to expel that foreign object but it slides in deeper. There is no pain, not yet, but it feels extraordinarily strange.

„Get used to it, slut. You're gonna get filled up with much more."

„Yes", Tintin mutters into the sheets, having surrendered all control but still too abashed to look at the older man. His own erection is rigid, and that humiliates him even more. He tries to relax for what is to come.

_Oh my God, he's going to violate me and it excites me...!_

The bed creaks and dips where Haddock positions himself behind him, and he pushes his hard tip against Tintin's entrance.

The battering ram takes a few attempts to break him in. Tintin whimpers and squirms, but when Haddock slaps his bottom he stays still, trembling. The Captain eases his pulsating cock slowly into him, grunting, and Tintin feels his ass open further.

Tintin cries out – it hurts, it's too uncomfortable, he can't take that massive girth. Tears well up in his eyes and he whimpers, biting down on his hand. He doesn't want to make more sounds, his own shame is already enough – even more so because the mere idea of being filled like this excites him, and the guilt over such feelings only adds to his forbidden want.

Since when has he been such a lusty whore?

Haddock moves slowly until he is fully balls-deep up inside him, and Tintin feels the burn spreading. At the same time he tries to calm down, breathe more easily. He needs to get used to it. He will.

„You like it?" Haddock growls.

„No", Tintin whines. _Yes. Yes!_

He hears the voices and steps. They're near! Haddock, too, has noticed that the others are going to be here any moment, and snaps his hips forward and back, eliciting loud cries from Tintin.

And they enter the cabin.

There are about ten men crowding the room, watching and staring at him as he kneels on all fours on the bed, moaning and wincing as Haddock takes him from behind.


	2. Chapter 2

To his amazement, he feels a strange spot deep inside him sending shivers throughout his nerves, and his body shakes with unwanted pleasure.

It tingles inside him, and he can't help but struggle against this peculiar sensation.

_Ohh, this is so good, I want this, I want more of this._

„Hold still!" Haddock orders, pushing his palm between Tintin's shoulder blades, forcing his head to stay on the mattress. „You'll get more soon enough, slut."

He hears the whistles, the lewd comments, the leers. The other men can see it all, and he realizes how hard he is by now, his erection leaking pre-cum.

„Look, the cabin boy really likes it!"

„That floozy sure needs a hard cock up his ass!"

„Ohh, I can't wait to fuck him."

They cheer the Captain on, telling him to take him harder. „Give it to him good!"

Tintin's whole body rocks back and forth as Haddock ravages him, and the men's cheers are interspersed with the obscene sound of skin slapping onto skin and the Captain's grunts. It still hurts but Tintin is getting used to it – with each thrust, he's stretched and primed further.

„Tell me you like it", Haddock commanded.

Tintin clings to the last shred of pride he can muster, and shakes his head. „No, no!"

How can he admit to enjoying the degrading act of another man mounting him? It is animal, debased. But his body speaks for itself. Tintin is hot and flustered, clearly erect, and responding to Haddock's rutting with involuntary moans.

„Say it!" Haddock hits home with a rough thrust, simultaneously slapping his bottom.

„Yes," Tintin wails, hiding his face in the sheets, „yes!"

„The whole sentence!"

„I li-like it", Tintin stutters, and can't suppress the bare truth spilling out of him. „I need it, need you to fuck me."

_Oh, yes, Captain, fuck me, I'm yours to take!_

„I don't hear you begging for it!"

„Please, fuck me" Tintin moans. „Fuck me, Captain, please, fuck me hard, I need it..." His voice trails off into ragged breathing. It is both painful and blissful, this unique stroking of sensitive parts deep inside him he has had no idea about. It seems so good and right to simply give himself to the other man's needs. He's the Captain's whore to be used and passed around whenever the Captain pleases.

The crowd cheers them on, and Tintin risks a glance to discover that many have unzipped their pants to free their erections. Several sailors stroke their hard rods as they watch him, and it's clear they can barely wait for their turn.

„Fuck him, Captain!"

„Give it to the whore!"

Haddock grunts, thrusting hard into Tintin. „I'm gonna come." The twitching in his legs, his tensing hands around Tintin's sides, it sends another shudder of excitement through Tintin's body.

He has no time to ask himself where Haddock will unload, for the Captain comes instantly. His cock explodes several jets of pent-up cum deep inside Tintin's aching insides, soaking him with his warm seed.

„Ohh", Tintin groans. The sensation of being marked is almost enough to send him over the edge. His face is hot and damp with sweat, and he realizes the men were right: he is a slut and he needs this, even if he hasn't known it before. He needs them to pin him down and take him, sticking their hard cocks into him. The urge is new but at the same time much older than him.

Tintin looks at them, gazing back into their hungry eyes as Haddock pulls out of him. They're ready for him.

Haddock heaves a few exhausted breaths while he stuffs his semi-soft manhood back into his pants, and tells the sailors that they can have Tintin now. „But not on the bed! Do it on the floor, you understand?"

They understand, and one of the men takes charge while Haddock sits back on the bed to watch. „Kneel on the floor", he orders. On shaky legs, Tintin climbs from the bed to do as commanded, kneeling before one of the men he barely knows. That guy is pointing his erection at him, telling him to suck it.

As Tintin encloses the rigid member with his lips, he feels the Captain's seed drip out of him, and spreads his legs a bit so the others can see it. They cheer and laugh, and the sounds of their masturbating increase. A warm, musky smell fills his nostrils, mingling with the scent of tobacco, tar, and sweat of a dozen men. It smells and tastes so dirty and yet so good!

„Some cream pie, eh, pals?"

„The Captain filled him up good!"

Encouraged by their fervent display Tintin focuses on sucking that erection. It is thick and throbbing, swelling even more inside his mouth. The sailor shoves forward again pressing his cock further inside Tintin's mouth, giving him the urge to gag. But he closes his eyes and pretends to be sucking a frozen ice pop.

„Oh fuck", the man groans, „he's a natural."

„A natural whore, is what he is", another chimes in, laughing.

Tintin looks up at the man, glancing up at the grinning face with wide eyes, blinking as he continues moving his head back and forth on that cock. Then he focuses his gaze back on his work, trying to take him deeper inside his mouth, but cannot. The taste becomes stronger – salty and musky, and Tintin wants to touch himself but the men do not allow it. Two of them each grab one of Tintin's wrists, telling him to touch their erections.

He ends up servicing three men at the same time, stroking two silky taut shafts and getting his hands slippery with clear fluid, while at the same time sucking the third.

That man is now close to orgasm; he grabs Tintin's hair to keep him firmly in place. „Swallow it, boy!"

Tintin tries to be ready – his own erection twitches eagery at the anticipation – but the sailor unloads fast, and the sensation and taste are both overwhelming enough to make Tintin gag. He swallows, pulls back as far as the iron grip on his head allows, causing some to ooze from his lips. He coughs once, then he is ready again. The nameless man slaps his softening cock at Tintin's mouth a few more times to get rid of every last drop, then he retreats to let another have his turn.

Tintin pants, trembling and breathing hard. He does not even see which man now presents his raging hard cock to him, he merely focuses on his duty.

The sailor grabs his cock by the base and smears glistening wet pre-cum over Tintin's mouth and cheeks, and the boy closes his eyes, feeling the member being slapped it playfully against his lips. Then he slips it into Tintin's mouth, and he resumes lovingly, but hungrily sucking it.

Soon Tintin gets the hang of how to vary his actions; he works up as much saliva as he can manage, and twirls his tongue around and under the tip. When he touches and laps at the frenulum the sailor grunts harder, and grabs Tintin's head with both hands, face-fucking him.

A slight panic of the most delectable sort makes the fine hair on Tintin's nape stand up. More control is being taken from him; the other man is using him as he pleases, and there is nothing he can do but to give in to the male need. He moans against the big cock that is abusing his mouth, and resolves to swallow it better this time.

_Incredible. I'm completely submissive under their forceful control._

But this sailor seems to have other intentions. He pulls out quickly, and orders Tintin to get on all fours.

„Yes, fuck him", the others chant.

„Jesus Christ, look at that dirty boy whore, he can't get enough!"

Tintin is still wet and stretched wide from the Captain's assault, and the man spreads his buttocks, thrusting his erection between them. It slides in with ease, forcing a moan from Tintin. Immediately there's another sailor kneeling in front of him, pushing his cock inside the lad's mouth.

They're now fucking him from both front and rear, and he submits to their increasingly steady rhythm. A fine sheen of sweat covers his face, and he has difficulties keeping his mouth open. The one sailor slams his hips fiercely against Tintin's ass while the other is slowly guiding his cock in and out of Tintin's mouth. It feels silky smooth and tastes of salt, and Tintin does all he can to keep his tongue wet and cheeks hollow.

When the other man's frenzied thrusts into his behind subside, Tintin braces himself to feel another hot load, and he is not disappointed. He feels the new blasts of cum even better than the last, and some leaks out his full hole, down his legs.

There are other hands pawing at him, fondling his bottom but he does not turn around to look. He has a job to do. He works that cock with more suction, eager to finish him.

„That slut is amazing!" the man in front of him moans, and then grunts as he reaches climax. Tintin remembers to swallow quickly as cum suddenly floods his mouth, and he can feel the shaft throb as it pumps jet after delicious jet of cum into him. What an astonishing sensation! He can't stop working that cock, not now. He keeps swallowing and sucking hard, moving his mouth up and down the man's length. Several stray drops of semen run down the corners of his mouth, dripping from his chin.

„Enough now, let me have a go", another sailor demands.

Tintin's current man pulls out of the boy's mouth; and fascinatedly Tintin watches the semi-soft member, covered in cum and spit, trailing a line from its tip to his mouth. But he can't admire it for long because the next guy is eager to be serviced, and forces his cock between Tintin's sore jaws.

Another man enters him from behind, and he's in a hurry – his cock slips over Tintin's entrance, bounces up and back, until he forces it in. Once again Tintin is rocked forth and back, impaled on a hot, hard rod. They all are like that, rigid and ready, and Tintin wondered how long they have gone without sex.

He's getting close to coming without even having touched himself. The stimulation from inside is glorious. He hasn't known that such a thing is possible. Soon, his little hole quivers and contracts around the sailor's cock, making him groan with pleasure.

„My God, that boy's got a talented ass!"

„And smooth and round like a girl's", another man comments. Someone slaps Tintin's buttocks. „Such hot buns, I can't wait to shoot my jizz all over them."

Tintin wants to shout _yes, drench me in your cum, I want to be covered in it,_ but he can't, not with his mouth completely filled, and his only response is a choked moan.

He hears the slapping wet sounds of several men stroking themselves, unable to resist the call of the raging bull between their legs; their heaving breaths as they wait for their turn to pounce on him.

The guy in front of Tintin pulls out and takes aim; and a hot milky-white ribbon lands on Tintin's face. The boy gasps in surprise, winces when another spurt lands on his eye. „Ohh, fuck", he groans, unprepared for this type of assault. He lifts up one hand – which is very difficult, since both his arms hurt from supporting himself on all fours – to wipe the semen from his eye, and utters a curse when he feels it sting and burn.

„Get used to it, whore", someone sneers. „That's only the beginning!" Boisterous laughter.

He realizes that the guy behind him has pulled out and with a soft _splat_ , more seed lands on his back and bottom. Someone cheers.

„Let me turn around!" Tintin can't hold this position any more, his wrists are beginning to hurt and his knees are sore from scraping over the floor. He looks up at the Captain who sits on the bed, and sees him smile. Apparently Haddock enjoys the show.

The other men are also eager for a change; and Tintin finds himself manhandled to lie on his back. Rough, calloused hands touch his belly and roam over his sides, then one man positions himself between Tintin's legs. „Hold yourself open for me, slut", he commands, and Tintin complies. Holding his bent legs far back with one hand under each knee he gives him easy access, and the next man guides his cock inside.

Even so, lying on his back, Tintin can't relax his arms for long. Two men kneel to his sides left and right, and order him to stroke their cocks with his hands.

The other who is fucking him bends Tintin's legs back even further, allowing for even deeper penetration.

„Great snakes", Tintin gasps when the big tool fills and stuffs him all the way, and hits an oversensitive area spot-on. He clasps his hands tighter around the erections he's holding, forgetting to fondle them. The stimulation is exquisite, almost unbearable, and his thighs and cock tremble and twitch with building-up tension.

Tintin has lost control long ago but now seems to be losing even more. He whimpers and moans, squirming, but the sailor holds his thighs in a vice-like grip, pounding hard into him. His face is right above Tintin's, showing a determined expression as he fucks the cabin boy. He goes as far as getting hold of the boy's wrists and pushing away the other men, leaning forward and keeping Tintin's arms pinned to the ground.

„Ohh", Tintin screams, driven crazy by the friction of relentless rutting against his prostate. Warm tingling shocks run through every little nerve in his body, and his balls start to feel hot and taut, on the brink of shooting. „Oh my God!" He arches his back against the stranger as his climax erupts. He hasn't even known that he's had so much of this pent-up energy inside him! A peculiar tingle spreads through his body and even his face as two, three jets of cum spill onto his stomach.

Through the clouds of his orgasm Tintin hears their whistles and cheers. To see him come is a reward for them; it confirms what they've known about him all the time: that he needs to be used like this, that he gets off on being passed around in this way

Tintin isn't sure how many have fucked him altogether, how often they've shot their load into his ass and mouth, but judging from the amounts of semen that's running over him and dripping out of him it seems that everyone has had his turn - at least twice.

.

.

.

Tintin lies on the bed, breathing hard as he usually does after a long run, and it's no surprise – _I've exercised my imagination quite hard!_ Exercised. _Hehe._ He's still holding his softening cock, and his own cum covers his stomach just like in his mind's images – one spurt has even reached his shirt although he's pulled it all the way up to his clavicle.

He closes his eyes and wonders how the scenario might continue from here.

Maybe the Captain will decide that he'll be Tintin's only man, much to the disappointment of the crew, of which some even dare to imply that the Captain alone could not possibly satisfy that ravenous slut of a cabin boy.

But Haddock makes sure that Tintin has no time to think about them at all. Soon Tintin learns to be ready every time Haddock wants him, always opening his legs and mouth willingly for his Captain.

And he enjoys the hungry glances from the other men, basking in the heat of their gazes. The recent encounter has only fueled their desire further, but being not allowed to touch him any more frustrates them to no end. He's the Captain's whore, and no one else's now.

What fun it is to tease them! Sometimes Tintin scrubs the deck wearing only his shorts and nothing else so he can practically feel their looks all over his skin. Sometimes he wonders what it would take for any of these guys to forget the Captain's orders, and to simply yank Tintin's shorts down and mount him right here and now; nevermind the punishment they'd receive for violating the Captain's property.

He lies on the bed and fans himself. A knock on the door startles him out of his reveries.

„Tintin?" It's Haddock deep voice from outside. „Let's go downstairs. There's coffee and strawberry cream pie."


End file.
